


Ages Past and Paradise Lost

by marishka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marishka/pseuds/marishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael remembers Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ages Past and Paradise Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [The Time Before Now](http://archiveofourown.org/works/988093) and too much talk about archangel family feels.

He can remember, however hazy and ancient the memory, a time when the Apocalypse wasn't _everything_. And if he reached even further back, a time when it was nothing at all.

Their Father knew, he's sure of it. He always knew. But for a time, they couldn't dream of a future as dim and bloody as this. For a time, they only knew joy.

He can remember Lucifer, and he always did, does, and will. The very first rays of his existence and the all consuming _everything_ that he was. Brightest of them all—of any to come and the only one who came before—the Morning Star, bringing light to a universe that only knew creation and fire in the void.

When he first laid eyes on Lucifer, he saw whole galaxies in all the colors that he didn't know until that moment, and it was then that he learned of beauty.

He was still young then, newborn, and already an old brother, but he took to the role with ease and excitement, taught Lucifer everything and learned just as much from him.

Sometimes, when they looked up at their Father with love and loyalty, he would notice something, a seeming weight within their Creator that he couldn't name or place.

It would be a very long time—and later he would think it wasn't long enough—before he understood the meaning of that weight, the burden of foreknowledge of their broken future.

Lucifer didn't question it back then, because it was their Father, so he too forgot it and dreamed of worlds and stars with his brother instead.

 

He can remember Raphael, coming to be like a balm to the pure energy of existence Lucifer and him had created. Where his first brother had been light and endless promise, Raphael was healing and calm comfort. He favored the Garden from the start, and cared for it before Joseph was made.

With Lucifer too young and careless to take on the role of teacher, he took charge of their newest brother.

Raphael learned quickly, with a reserved excitement, a pure hunger for knowledge that he gladly fed with tales of the Beginning and of their Father's rules while Lucifer yearned for games and excitement.

 

He can remember Gabriel, emerging with all the charm and sparkle of the stars, not long after Raphael. And just as his creation promised, he was the most energetic of the lot.

Lucifer took to him easily, eager to impart his own brand of creativity on their youngest brother, and he was content to fall back and watch the two of them fill the Heavens with their light and laughter.

Raphael favored his side to that of his brothers, and it was with a silent appreciation that they shared their time together, in peace and admiration of their lively siblings.

 

More angels filled Heaven after that, and he remembers the name of each one, as they were his to care for, just as the very first was. He taught them to listen and follow the commands of their superiors, as they were the commands of their Father, their Creator, their God.

Later, he would remember losing many of them in the war. But he would keep himself from remembering how he'd mourned each loss heavily before, and how he hardly stopped to grieve their destruction now.

It was better not to remind himself of the sort of leader he'd become—he tells himself now that he can't remember when he stopped caring for his siblings and became fixated on the battle to come.

 

He prefers not to remember the time after humanity, the start of the end and the ultimate fall.

Arguments had driven Gabriel away, though he never ran far enough to be out of reach, always ready to return once he'd made a big enough show of being gone to quiet their fighting.

Thankfully, Raphael never resorted to such tactics to show his unhappiness.

Lucifer's fall still echoes through him, even now, the cold pull on his grace when all of him had wished to follow his brother, but his Father's command kept him still and rooted. He'd watched Lucifer fall for eons, until the very end, and knows now that who he had been for all the ages prior had fallen with his brother then.

 

He can remember how quiet Heaven was after the Fall, only Raphael's voice rising over all other angels, small whispers attempting comfort when they both knew it would provide none.

He remembers thinking how _empty_ home felt. And how much emptier it became when God left them.

All He left them was his word, the promise of the Apocalypse, a final battle and the death of his brother.

 

He can remember reciting God's word to Raphael; the promise of Paradise, an end to the fighting, to the chaos, a time of peace as it once was—he can also remember making up each of those promises, lies born from their Father's true words.

God had told him he would meet Lucifer again, in another battle, in the end of times, and kill or be killed. And he, in turn, had told Raphael that it would be their salvation.

He wonders now about the sort of leader Raphael has become, though he knows from the silence that whatever his brother was is gone now, too.

 

This was the cruelest part of the Cage, he thinks, bathed in flames to rival his own which eat away at him as though he were mortal and bind his wings to ensure he'll remain as grounded as his grace after the Fall, to make him remember ages past and paradise lost, each act and decision which led him here.

And he remembers facing Lucifer again, _finally_ , and seeing the toll Hell had taken on his brother.

Once the most beautiful, now twisted into something he barely recognized, and it frightens him as much as it hurts him—if the brightest of them all could be so tarnished by the Cage, what would become of him in time?

Instead, it's a quiet revelation in the depths of Hell that bruises him the most.

He didn't need Perdition to become tortured and broken, Lucifer's Fall was enough.


End file.
